irresistible
by beauxfleur
Summary: It just gets harder.


A/N- I have too many cute one shots to get out.

Nick Miller is a man. He's made that clear on several occasions to everybody. Including one Jessica Day. Everyone knows Nick likes manly things like beer, football, hot wings and women. Mostly that last one. Women are hot, sensual, mysterious creatures. He wants to explore their depths allllllll day long, figuratively and literally, of course. So, he fails to understand why, with this solid knowledge, his singing roommate fails to adhere to the simple rules of keeping a man at bay; don't be sexy.

It's not like she tries to be sexy really hard, she's more of the adorable girl next door type. With her twisty skirts, sparkly lip gloss and poofy dresses. Jessica Day embodies sunshine. And he's fine with that really. It's endearing, and kinda hot because she gives off the helpless little girl vibe. But, little does Nick Miller know, she isn't all rainbows and skirts. So he stays within arm's length of her with no problem, just rubbing one off later when she sits too close to him and smells like honey and cinnamon, or when she bends down in one of her impossibly short skirts and he catches a glimpse of sweet dainty panties, then oh lord, it gets a little harder, (pun intended, thank you very much) to stay away.

Jess also has long, dark, curly hair. He's always liked light haired girls; he'd found himself first drawn to Caroline at the sight of her light locks. But something about Jess's hair is almost erotic. The way it falls over her porcelain skin, stark contrast to it, reminds him of those stupid Disney movies where the chick falls asleep for a really long time and she lives with seven tiny dudes or something. It's so luscious and thick, and it smells like strawberry, another added scent.

Still, Nick is nothing if not a master of shutting his feelings down. Until one night.

Jess saunters into the apartment at precisely 2:15 am, loudly belting Good Morning Baltimore, heels in hand, while Nick's in the middle of an episode of 'Hoarders'. Man he loves that show, it's such an inspiration, it touches him right in his goddamn soul. He doesn't pay attention to her one bit; mainly because she's been out on a date and he saw her slip a condom into her purse from her large box on the way out and he's doesn't want to address the heated coil in his stomach any further.

However, her being home means, it was either a disaster, or, it didn't happen. Nick twists his head to search for her tiny body in the large loft. He sees her stumble toward the couch to sit next to him and his mouth goes dry. This isn't Adorable Jess, or Sunshine Jess; this is Sexy Jess. Jess dressed to kill. Gone are the stockings of black, translucent shades, and replaced with almost transparent shimmering ones. The poofy dress replaced by a tight little black number. Now you wouldn't be able to tell in all of a day that Jess has curves. But after living with her for a year or so; jeez louise, she does. First of all, Jess has the greatest boobs ever, thank you. And second; he can't think anymore because he's way too focused on her lips.

She's wearing a deep red, almost like blood, and her eyes are blue, so blue and she has a bottle of salsa in her hand.

"Nicky!" She exclaims, and plops herself onto the sofa. Please let him die. She seems bubbly, so he has to assume it went well.

"So, it went okay? You guys, you know-" He shoves his finger into his other hand, curved, trying to mimic dirty dirty things; he'd like to do them to her.

But oh lord, she looks so lost.

"Huh?"

He does it again.

"Did weeeeee-" she contemplates it. Snaps her fingers. "Drive through a tunnel!" She answers triumphantly.

"No."

"Brush our teeth?"

"Jess."

"Poke holes in jars for fireflies?"

"Oh my god, did you guys have sex or not?"

She scrunches up her nose daintily.

"No sir, we did not. He didn't like my Judy Garland impression." She informs him a little sadly.

"Did ya do it while you were taking off your clothes?" Nick asks, because it's Jess.

"Well, yeah, obviously." She says, matter of factly.

Nick laughs, half out of relief, and also because she's ridiculous, a full bodied sound, temporarily forgetting his lust filled thoughts of his incredibly drunk roommate. Until she sinks the cushions next to him, humming the same song again. It gets a little harder to breathe then. And when she struggles to open the salsa bottle, heaving little squeaks and sighs, he nearly bursts into tears of frustration, racing toward his room and slamming the door so hard it takes him 10 minutes to pry it open when she knocks.

"What?" He says gruffly, when she stares at him, does eyes and all.

"Can you unzip my dress?" She asks, and he feels like someone knocked the wind out of him.

"Hngh?" The only sound he manages to make.

"I have T-Rex arms." She pouts.

He tries to think of excuses, because once that zipper comes down, he's going to actually cry.

"I have my uh- taxes. Can't help. Sorry!"

She blinks in disbelief.

"You haven't paid your taxes since 1999." Jess drily points out, sounding a little more sober than a few minutes ago. "Just unzip me, you idiot."

She turns and sweeps her hair over her shoulder. All he can see is the little silver zipper, shining in the light, oh so tempting. His shaking fingers hold the tab and pull it down, a sexy little growling sound emitted as it opens up. Before he can even register her alabaster curves underneath it, she turns swiftly and smiles brightly at him.

"Thanks!" She chirps, and stands on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. He just stands, slack jawed, watching as she slips into her own bedroom, and the door closing, not before he catches a glimpse of the dress completely falling to the floor.

"What did i ever do to you?" He whimpers.

Now he really, truly cries.


End file.
